Finding Light in the Darkness
by CharmedMummy
Summary: She doesn't need to know everything, she just wants to be there for him. A GarciaMorgan oneshot postep for Profiler, Profiled.


AN: This is the result of all the random thoughts that have been swirling through my head since the last episode. I'm not sure exactly how I feel about how it turned out, but I hope it is enjoyable for all those Garcia/Morgan fans I know are out there. :)

This story is a post-ep for the second season episode "Profiler, Profiled." It can be seen as going with my previous story "The Potomac" but you do not have to read that one before this one.

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Morgan sat on his couch staring at the blank TV screen in front of him. His mind was similarly void of activity. He didn't want to think. Didn't want to remember what had been done to him as a teenager, what he had hidden from his family for years. Didn't want to contemplate how all the revelations were going to change how his colleagues viewed him. How she viewed him.

Almost worse than that was thinking about how his silence had cost another young boy his life. How he let his fear and shame keep him quiet even after he joined the FBI which allowed Buford to continue on as if he was the saint everyone had thought he was all these years. How many boys had let that bastard touch them because they saw it as their only way out of a bad situation? How many just did what he wanted because they were too ashamed to tell anyone about what was going on?

He was starting to feel like he would crack if he thought about it anymore, so he just stopped thinking. He sat on that couch and stared without letting the thoughts even enter his consciousness. To aid him in the effort he had picked up a case of beer on the way home and if he looked at the coffee table he would be able to see that he was about a fourth of the way through the drinks. He looked down at the one he had in his hand, brought it up to his mouth and drank what remained in the can and then set that one next to the others on the table to make the row of empty containers an even six.

A few times his phone rang, but he had muted his message machine so he didn't have to hear the voices of anyone trying to get a hold of him. It was probably just his family anyway and he had already told them everything he could bring himself to say and he didn't want to talk about it anymore. He didn't want to talk about it ever again if truth be told, but that was probably hoping for too much.

The lines of the TV became indistinct as darkness fell and still he didn't get up. As much as he wanted to he didn't let himself drink anymore since he would have to go in to work the next day, but he continued to sit on that couch. He didn't close his eyes, couldn't because if he did the images would come to him and those pictures he just couldn't deal with at the moment.

There was one person he desperately wanted to see, to hold onto in the storm around him, but he couldn't bring himself to call her. He didn't want to see the change in her eyes, the look that would tell him that she knew everything and that that knowledge forever altered what they had, what they had not that long ago begun to explore.

But he should have known it wouldn't be that easy. One of the traits he loved about her was her tenaciousness and he should have predicted it would be his downfall now. And yet he was surprised at the knock on his door. But after the brief shock he knew it had to be her. His family was in Chicago and the rest of his colleagues didn't know how to talk to him about everything that had come out about his past. It was the ultimate irony that the best profilers in the world couldn't deal with the problems of one of their own, but it had been shown to be true when Elle was going through her tough times and it was happening again with him.

A look through the peephole confirmed his instincts. Even as he wished she wasn't there, his chest tightened at the sight of her and he felt just a little better. He briefly considered not opening the door but he knew that it wouldn't stop her. She would stand out there as long as it took.

He unhooked the chain, turned the lock, and opened the door but quickly turned around and headed towards his big front window. Its view was pretty unspectacular considering it was mostly just the parking lot, but he wasn't interested in that at the moment. He let himself follow her in the reflection of the glass as she closed the door and walked up behind and slightly to the right of him.

"What's going on, Derek?" came the voice from behind him. He sighed and rubbed his forehead with his hand.

"I would think you of all people would know, Garcia. You're the goddess of knowledge, right?" He tried to interject a bit of his usual bantering tone that he normally had with her but failed miserably.

The blonde walked up and put a hand on his back. The warmth from that simple touch did wonders for him. It was amazing how wonderful a touch from a loved one could be and how devastating similar touches could be from someone who wished you harm.

"I don't think this has anything to do with you having a juvenile record, Derek. A few mistakes as a teenager wouldn't have you here in the dark drinking beer which you normally don't care that much for and not taking my phone calls."

He half-turned and looked into her eyes. It was hard to read them well considering the lack of light at that time of day, but from what he could tell she really didn't know. Could she really be unaware of the depths of his past? "Nobody told you?"

"Told me what?" she asked. She put the hand that wasn't on his back up on his cheek. "Derek, honey, I don't pry into the lives of my friends and colleagues and especially not you. JJ had to push me to look into as much as I did. All I saw was your juvie record and the letter that the Buford guy wrote for you that helped lead the team to him as the killer." She watched as he walked away from her at the name of Buford. "Sweetie, if there's something you don't want to tell me, it's okay. There are things you don't know about me either. But let me help you. Don't push me away, please."

Morgan put his head back with his eyes closed. Was she telling the truth? Had she really not followed the path Hotch and the others had and figured it all out? Sure, she wasn't a profiler trained to do that, but she was an amazingly intelligent woman and he couldn't fully believe she wouldn't have guessed. He turned to her. "I can't…I can't talk about it right now, Penelope. It's just too much. I feel like if I talk about it anymore the dam will break and I'll fall apart and not even you will be able to put the pieces back together."

Garcia closed the distance between them and put her fingers to his lips. "Then don't talk. I said I didn't need to know and I meant that. If it's really that bad you will eventually need to talk to someone who can walk you through it, but for now just let me hold you and show you that you will be all right, Derek. No matter how big this cloud is that is hanging over you there is no way it is too big for us if we stick together, okay?" She gave him a watery smile before putting her other hand behind his head and gently bringing his lips to hers.

At first he just let himself revel in the feel of her softness, let himself soak in the glorious feel of the touch of someone who cared about him more than themself. But soon that wasn't enough and he put his arms around her to draw her closer to him so he could feel more of her warmth. She responded by putting her arms more firmly around his neck and opening her mouth to him. He felt the darkness inside him battling to get out and take control but every time it made any headway she seemed to know and she would moan or kiss him harder and thereby beat back the demons trying to escape.

He slowly began backing up towards his bedroom taking her with him. He needed this. Oh, how he needed her and what she could do for him. As they began taking clothing off of each other he actually started to feel as if his life as he knew it wasn't over, as if he still had something to fight for.

As they reached the bedroom they finally broke their kiss long enough to tear off their shirts. As they tumbled to the bed he couldn't help but throw up a thank-you to God for answering the prayer he hadn't even brought himself to pray. He had needed someone to save him and here she was doing exactly that.

He broke off their kiss again and looked down at her from where he had braced himself on his arms. From somewhere came the need to make sure she was okay with this, her actions notwithstanding. "Penelope, we don't have to do this tonight you know. Just having you here is enough, we don't have to-" He was silenced as she once again put her fingers to his lips.

"I know it's hard darling, but for once in your life stop profiling and analyzing and just let go. I know you in here," she said, laying a hand over his heart, "and I'm not worried. This is about what you need tonight and I'm beyond happy to be here for you." She gave him a little smirk. "Not that I don't intend to thoroughly enjoy the experience as well."

He hadn't thought it would be possible, but he found himself smiling back at her. He took her glasses off and put them on the bedside table then looked back at the woman beneath him, the woman who had single handedly managed to pull him out of the depths he had been in since being arrested and shown the picture of the murdered boy. He lowered himself down to her warmth and brought his mouth to hers as he felt her arms come around him again.

There in the darkness of the night he found his light. All the questions he had pushed away would eventually come back, but now he knew that as hard as it would be to face them that he wouldn't be alone in doing so. As he lost himself in her the final holds his past had on him broke and fell away and while he knew hard days were ahead he didn't fear them. Who was he to fear anything with a goddess such as her beside him?


End file.
